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By night the skyscraper looms in the smoke and the stars and has a soul.
Carl Sandburg
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Carl Sandburg
Age: 89 †
Born: 1878
Born: January 6
Died: 1967
Died: July 22
Biographer
Historian
Journalist
Musicologist
Novelist
Poet
Screenwriter
Trade Unionist
Writer
Galesburg
Illinois
Carl August Sandburg
Night
Soul
Looms
Skyscraper
Smoke
Stars
More quotes by Carl Sandburg
Poetry is a sky dark with a wild-duck migration.
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Poetry is a plan for a slit in the face of a bronze fountain goat and the path of fresh drinking water.
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A baby is God's opinion that life should go on.
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Poetry is the capture of a picture, a song, or a flair, in a deliberate prism of words.
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To work hard, to live hard, to die hard, and then go to hell after all would be too damned hard.
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I glory in this world of men and women, torn with troubles, yet living on to love and laugh through it all.
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Let a joy keep you. Reach out your hands and take it when it runs by.
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Newspapers tell beforehand what is going to happen - maybe.
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Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, 'Oh!' and another, 'How?'
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Poetry is the journal of the sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air. Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable. Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
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Tell me if the lovers are losers... tell me if any get more than the lovers.
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Shame is the feeling you have when you agree with the woman who loves you that you are the man she thinks you are.
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Be careful with your words, once they are said, they can only be forgiven, not forgotten.
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Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
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Poetry is a mock of a cry at finding a million dollars and a mock of a laugh at losing it.
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I learned you can't trust the judgment of good friends.
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There is no song to your singing.
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Who am I, where have I been, and where am I going?
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I been a wanderin' Early and late, New York City To the Golden Gate An' it looks like I'm never gonna cease my Wanderin'.
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Poetry is a mystic, sensuous mathematics of fire, smoke-stacks, waffles, pansies, people, and purple sunsets.
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